“All right.” Then she whispered to me the word “Eyelet.”
“Well, I’ll hang you, General Bolton, with a word of six letters.”
“Right. It has fourth place.” Then she explained to me, “You have to tell the position of the letter.”
“Wrong. That’s one. You help me keep count, Trudy. Remember, twelve wrong guesses and I’ve hung him.”
“Wrong. You see he’s trying the vowels. How many does that make?”
“Oh, you girls need not look so jubilant; four doesn’t make much. I’ll guess U, next.”
“An e, an l, and a t. Let me see. Any n’s in it?”
“No. That makes six. Oh, we have you, General, that is half the number.”
“The battle is not won yet; no, nor lost yet. Well, I’ll guess G.”
He looked down at the grass and drummed his fingers on his knee, then said, “D.”
“An e, an l, and a t. That’s a queer combination when all the other vowels are out. Holloa! Is there another e?”
“I hope this word is in the English language?”
“Oh, yes. It is English and it is used to-day, but a generation back it was used more frequently.”
“A generation back! Bah!” and he straightened himself and rising strode back and forth with his hands clasped back of him. “I have it! That is, I am pretty certain. Has a y, hasn’t it?”
“Eyelet!” he shouted. “Bah, you thought you had me. Well, you almost did. Those pesky vowels were at fault.”
“Never mind, I’ll hang you yet. I have another word in mind. But not to-day. Come, Gertrude. You see it all now, I guess, and we must hurry in, or Will and the others will be back before we are ready for dinner. Good-bye for a time, General. Look to your guns. I shall be after you again.”
Breakfast was more than half over, some mornings later, when in came Bob and Irving Bolton. A chorus of “Fie, fie,” greeted them, and Elsie Sterling shook her fingers threateningly as Bob explained, “Pen, don’t be hard on a fellow. Irving and I talked too late, I suppose, last night. At any rate I know I should never have turned up this morning only that he yelled across to me that lunch was most ready. And then he loitered to help me share the blame of our lateness. Hey, old fellow?” and he looked across at Irving as he slid into the vacant place between Elsie and Mrs. Burkhardt.
“You are both rascals, both of you,” growled the General. “Burkhardt and I have been up hours and have planned the finest sort of a day for the rest of you ungrateful ones. Shall we tell them, Burkhardt?”